


Unseemly Desire, or Nandor's Season of Self-Discovery

by HeartlessMemo



Series: Nandor's Season of Self-Discovery [2]
Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood Drinking, Home shopping network, Hypnosis, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nandor failing at being aloof, Nandor trying to be aloof, Set before the show starts, Smut, Snuggies, Toxic Masculinity, attempted unwilling hypnosis!, axe throwing contests, lot of that in the Ottoman Empire, seemingly unrequited feelings, you know--the usual stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25793137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartlessMemo/pseuds/HeartlessMemo
Summary: “Well, well, well...doing the flight of shame, Nandor?” Laszlo chuckles at his own joke as Nandor drops out of his bat form into a chair in the fancy room.“Very good joke, darling! Because he’s finally given the sex to Gizmo!” Nadja crows.The couple are sitting together in the loveseat. Laszlo is bent over Nadja’s hand, painting her nails and heedlessly dripping lacquer all over the upholstery as he does so.Nandor’s face blanches in alarm and he cries, “What the shit are you two talking about!? I have not been doing sex with Guillermo! Yuck! Unspeakable! Why would that even occur to you?”---In which Nandor tries to convince everyone, including himself, that he does not have any unseemly feelings for his familiar. Sequel to I Fell into Fantasy.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz & Nandor the Relentless, Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless, Guillermo/Nandor
Series: Nandor's Season of Self-Discovery [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871134
Comments: 52
Kudos: 152





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't decide on a serious title or a goof title, so I went with both. Thanks so much to Spiff from the Nandermo server for helping me workshop this idea.
> 
> After I wrote "I Fell into Fantasy" I just kept thinking about how Nandor would spin into denial and the angst that would ensue. Then I woke up this morning with the idea of an axe throwing competition?? And now we're here?
> 
> If you like this it'd mean a lot if you left kudos or a comment! Thank you!!

Nandor wakes to the sound of his familiar quietly shuffling about the crypt, no doubt lighting the dozens of candles that line the room. The vampire shifts inside his coffin, frowning at the sticky feel of dried seed on the inside of his trousers. He’d gone to bed that morning with a powerful desire still coursing through his veins along with Guillermo’s sweet, virgin blood. The mere memory of last night’s feeding is enough to stir him once more and he growls, driving the heel of his palm against his crotch to stifle his reaction.

“Master? Are you alright?” Guillermo’s voice is sweet and tentative.

“I’m _fine!_ Why would you ask such a thing?” he snaps irritably, then in a softer voice, “Is it safe to open my coffin now, Guillermo?”

In answer Guillermo cracks the lid, easily lifting the solid weight after years of practice. His master sits up quickly, tugging at the bottom of his loose nightshirt in an effort to cover the obvious stain on the front of his pants. 

“Good evening, master,” Guillermo greets with his usual respectful subservience. 

_Good._ Perhaps he won’t have to work too hard at reestablishing the boundaries he’d so savagely torn down the night before. It’s imperative that Nandor reminds his familiar of his place within the household and, especially, within their...relationship. His reaction to drinking Guillermo’s blood was shameful and he does not want his familiar getting any high ideas about a romance with his master. 

He knows-- _how could he not?_ \--of Guillermo’s inappropriate attraction to him. He hears the way the human’s heartbeat races whenever they are physically close. He sees the secret grins on Guillermo’s lips when Nandor does anything the least bit kind. But a romantic relationship between a vampire and a familiar? _Yeeck!_ It’s just not done. Of course, he considered the sex slave option when this unnatural lust first manifested. Other vampires make such arrangements with their familiars. But _Guillermo_ would want more. He would want snuggles and romance and caring and...maybe even a break from his chores?! And the idea of using Guillermo for sex, while appealing, also causes him to feel a burning, stabby pain in his chest that he can’t identify.

No, it is better that he keep things strictly professional. A master and his servant. Nothing more.

Nandor finally steels himself to look up at his familiar, keeping his face a cold, forbidding mask. And then he sees the massive bruise on Guillermo’s neck.

It’s an angry, deep purple that extends from his jaw down the side of his neck and beneath the collar of his fuzzy sweater. Two scabbed puncture wounds sit in the center of the damage, like demon eyes looking back at Nandor accusingly. He sucks in a breath and involuntarily reaches out to brush his fingers against the wounded skin. Guillermo flinches away from the touch with a pained mew.

“It’s just...tender, master,” Guillermo explains, almost apologetically. 

Nandor can’t think straight. His eyes, liquid and deep, full of some unnameable emotion, focus on the damage he’s caused. How many dead bodies has he tossed aside without a qualm? How many bruises and bites and broken bones has he caused? But he’s never seen the results on someone he--

“I... _Guillermo_ ,” he whispers, finally locking eyes with his human and bringing his hand up to cup his cheek, “I did not mean to be causing permanent damage…”

Guillermo gasps softly at his master’s touch. He leans into it, silently thrilling when Nandor doesn’t immediately draw his hand away.

“Permanent? No, master, it’s just a bruise. It will fade eventually,” Guillermo assures him, but Nandor still looks skeptical.

“Does it hurt?” he asks and Guillermo brims with happiness at his master’s concern.

“Only a little bit, Na--master,” Guillermo stumbles, nearly breaking the carefully established protocol between them. 

Nandor notes the mistake and snatches his hand away as if he’s been burned by holy water. He clambers out of the coffin without Guillermo’s assistance. They go through the motions of dressing. Nandor bends down so that Guillermo can get his shirt on over his head, steps into his trousers and boots, and sits quietly while Guillermo arranges his hair. All the while a single word cycles through his head.

_Fuck!_

\---

Guillermo is practically buzzing with energy despite last night’s blood loss. Every time he moves he feels a delicious tug on his wound and the memories of his master’s touch come flying back to the surface of his mind. He doesn’t even care that Nandor dismissed him so abruptly after getting dressed. Nor does he care that he gave him a seemingly random and unnecessary order before fleeing the crypt in his bat form. Guillermo sits on the floor surrounded by his master’s extensive blade collection, carefully cleaning and polishing each one with a giant, goofy grin on his face.

\---

“Well, well, well...doing the flight of shame, Nandor?” Laszlo chuckles at his own joke as Nandor drops out of his bat form into a chair in the fancy room. 

“Very good joke, darling! Because he’s finally given the sex to Gizmo!” Nadja crows.

The couple are sitting together in the loveseat. Laszlo is bent over Nadja’s hand, painting her nails and heedlessly dripping lacquer all over the upholstery as he does so.

Nandor’s face blanches in alarm and he cries, “What the shit are you two talking about!? I have not been doing sex with Guillermo! Yuck! Unspeakable! Why would that even occur to you?”

“Me thinks he doth protest too much, eh, darling?” Laszlo remarks to another shriek of laughter from his wife.

Nandor jerks to his feet, bristling and defensive, but before he can think of a reply Laszlo continues, “Well if you weren’t having sex then what the blazes were you doing to the chap to cause those _tantalizing_ moans?”

With this Laszlo launches into a cartoonish impression of the desperate cries and moans that Guillermo made as Nandor drank from him. Nadja claps her hands in delight and joins in the fun. The pair of perverts are soon screeching and twitching in exaggerated, obscene mockery of his familiar.

“Enough!” Nandor roars, stomping his foot petulantly. “Stop speaking of my familiar this way! It’s _highly_ inappropriate!”

“So, you’re saying you didn’t roger your little rotten soldier last night?” Laszlo arches a brow, snorting under his breath derisively. 

Nandor stares back at him in confusion, “What the fuck--?! No! Certainly not. Very...disgusting to even say such a thing. Gross!”

Laszlo glances to Nadja with a sly smirk as he speaks, “Then you wouldn’t mind if my good lady wife and I extended an invitation to the fellow to join us in a _ménage à threesome_?”

Nandor takes to the air, eyes glowing with rage as he hisses wildly at Laszlo.

“Hey dudes, what’s all the fuss about?” Colin Robinson, drawn by the pulsing waves of drama emanating from the room, appears in the doorway.

Nandor drops back onto his feet and whines, “Laszlo is making unsavory claims about my familiar and I won’t have it!”

“Nandor’s being a snake dick because he’s horny for his familiar and won’t admit it!” Nadja counters. 

Nandor’s mouth snaps shut at that. Nadja’s words have struck true and Nandor feels a shiver of panic at the thought of his shameful secret being known throughout the household. He must convince them they’re mistaken...but how? 

He’s still too enraged to think straight and rather than address Nadja’s words he simply bellows, “ _Satisfaction!_ I will have satisfaction against these two perverts!”

Colin grins, his eyes lighting with hungry delight, “How about a contest of some sort? Whoever wins is right. Of course, you should choose a neutral activity. Something in which you’re all equally matched. A checkers tournament? Scrabble, maybe…”

“A contest! Yes!” Nandor interrupts with an excited grin. “A challenge of strength and accuracy! Guillermo! Bring me my axes for throwing! My throwing axes!”

Nadja rolls her eyes and looks about to argue when Laszlo stops her with a hand on her arm.

“I say, good idea, Nandor. We’ll compete in a game of throwing axes. But to prove that you really are telling the truth and you don’t harbor secret, moist fantasies about your little familiar, we’ll make it more interesting. Whoever gets their axe closest to Gizmo _without_ skewering the little guy wins!”

Nandor deflates, “That’s not...I don’t…”

Guillermo enters carefully holding a bundle of wickedly sharp axes. The blades shine in the candlelight and contrast against the soft, muted colors of his sweater. Nandor imagines one of those blades sinking into his familiar’s soft flesh and he shivers. 

Laszlo looks as if he’s already won the little game he’s playing and Nandor clenches his fists, forcing levity into his voice as he announces, “Everyone in the garden! We are going to have a little game!”

\---

Guillermo can’t decide if he’s more livid or terrified. He’s standing up against the fence, shivering despite his hat and coat, and desperately trying to hold still as his master casually tests the weight of the axe in his hand. Nadja and Laszlo look on, each carrying axes of their own, and Colin Robinson looks positively frenzied as he feeds off the tension in the air.

“Master, why are we doing this, again?” Guillermo wishes his voice didn’t have such a marked tremor in it.

“I am defending your honor, Guillermo. Now be very, very still,” Nandor launches the axe without any further warning. 

Guillermo shrieks and he feels the air to the right of his head part as the blade sinks into the wood of the fence an inch away from his face. He turns to stare at the quivering handle with wide, horrified eyes.

“ _There!_ ” Nandor announces with a smug smile. “No one could beat such a throw! Contest over, I win. Guillermo, attend me--”

Nandor is already starting to stride back to the house but Guillermo barely has a chance to let out a relieved sigh when Laszlo steps up wielding his own weapon. 

“Not so fast, Gizmo! I’ll have my turn, thank you!” his voice lilts up dramatically as he raises the axe, screwing one eye shut and taking aim.

Nandor whirls, eyes wide with panic as he urgently hisses, “Be still, Guillermo!”

Guillermo shuts his eyes, whimpering as he awaits his fate. One second Laszlo is letting out a manful bellow as the axe leaves his fingers and the next second Guillermo is hissing in pain as the blade cuts into his cheek. His eyes flash open in shock and he brings his hand up to cup his face. Blood pours from the shallow wound. The pain is a sharp, burning intensity that brings tears stinging to his eyes.

“Ha!” Nandor gloats. “You’ve lost! Your blade touched...him.”

Laszlo swears under his breath but Nandor has lost his steam as the reality of his words hits him. He steps forward, involuntarily reaching for his wounded familiar. Then he catches the knowing look on Laszlo’s face and he stops himself, straightening his spine and raising his head in a show of haughty indifference that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“My turn!” Nadja trills, flipping her axe from hand to hand with a little skip in her step. 

“Master… _please!_ ” Guillermo begs. There are tears leaking from his eyes now. Whatever fucking insult Nandor thinks they made against him isn’t worth this!

“Yes, Nandor, the boy has a point. My lady wife is known for many...eclectic skills, but her aim isn’t one of them. We could put a stop to this if you’d care to admit we’re right about your shameful little secret…”

“ _Never!_ ” Nandor shouts, looking like a giant, angry toddler.

Guillermo’s head spins, “What? What is he talking about, master?”

Nandor turns to his familiar, injecting authority into his voice as he commands, “Guillermo, tell Nadja and Laszlo that we were not doing sex together last night!”

“E-excuse me!?” Guillermo sputters, feeling a heated blush creep up his neck.

Nandor lets out a frustrated growl and his lips curl in revulsion as he shouts, “Tell them that I did not have _disgusting, unnatural_ sex with a...a... _human servant_! I order you!”

The hand he’s kept clutched over the bleeding wound on his cheek falls limp at his side. Guillermo looks from his master’s cold, detached expression to Nadja and Laszlo’s expectantly curious faces and he sighs in resignation even as another tiny piece of his heart chips and falls away.

“...He didn’t,” he says in a small voice and then, more loudly, “We did not have sex.”

Laszlo looks unconvinced and Nadja just looks annoyed.

“This is getting very boring and I still have not had my turn to throw the axe! Here I go!”

She flings the blade through the air with barely a glance in Guillermo’s direction. It wobbles in the air, toppling end over end as it cuts a deadly path that Nandor immediately sees will end in his familiar’s gut. Guillermo has barely enough time to flinch but Nandor moves with supernatural speed, dashing in front of his human and plucking the axe from the air before it can hurt him.

“ _Nadja!_ ” Nandor admonishes in an affronted tone. “That was very careless of you! You could have seriously injured my Gui--my familiar! I’m very annoyed with you both!”

Guillermo trembles from behind Nandor, clinging to the fabric of his cape for comfort despite the anger, hurt and resentment that still broils just beneath the surface of his emotions. He’ll deal with all that once his legs resolidify.

Laszlo waves away the near-catastrophe with a flick of his wrist and holds out his arm for Nadja as he comments, “I think we have our answer, darling…”

Nandor’s hands curl into fists at his sides as he watches the other vampires stroll away with smug satisfaction on their faces.

_Fucking shit!_

\---

“Guillermo…” Nandor pauses on his way up the step stool, he squeezes his familiar’s hand in his. “About tonight…”

 _He’s going to apologize for putting me in danger...for saying those things…_ Guillermo looks up at him with hopeful expectation in his eyes.

“I hope you are not getting strange notions in your little human brain because of what Laszlo said. It was very wrong of him to make such a sickening claim,” Nandor’s voice is pure condescension.

Guillermo is silent for a beat, swallowing against the lump of emotion in his throat and blinking his eyes rapidly before looking his master in the eye and lying, “Of course not, master.”

Nandor nods in satisfaction and he swings down into his coffin. But he tastes the edge of human sadness beginning to taint the air of the room and he frowns. Hadn’t this whole mess started because he was trying to get rid of the sad human smell? He is caught in one of those hog day loops!

Nandor hesitates, scowling as he chooses his words, “But… I _am_ sorry about the axes. It wasn’t my idea. And… and… I would have been _really_ sad if you had died, because you’re...special to me, Guillermo.”

Nandor lets the words hang in the air for a moment, watching the start of a smile curling his familiar’s lips before shaking his head and waving a hand in front of Guillermo’s face in a flourish, “You will forget about that last thing I just said.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nandor is shocked that his plan to distance himself from his annoyingly emotional human has failed!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features consensual smut and attempted non-con hypnosis. The scene at the end of this chapter in which Nandor attempts to hypnotize Guillermo is directly inspired by [uv_duv's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uv_duv/pseuds/uv_duv) brilliant, aching fic, [Clean Slate: Five Times Nandor Mindwiped Guillermo, and One Time He Wished He Didn't.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750642) Go read it, it will stay with you!

A miasma of hurt, sadness, and anger stews around Guillermo over the next week. It settles into the drapery. It creeps into the cracks between the floorboards. It sinks into the moth-eaten fabric of the furniture. All the vampires, excepting Colin Robinson, are disturbed by the foul odor that gradually invades the household. For once, Nadja and Laszlo keep wisely silent, recognizing the fragile stability of both master and familiar. Colin quietly feeds from all of them, glowing with power in the remote solitude of his basement room.

Nandor boldly clings to his aloof facade. His slip up with Guillermo and the subsequent mind-wipe had... _unnerved_ him. And, anyway, there is no reason why things should not go back to the way they were. He gave Guillermo what he wanted, didn’t he? And he even said he was sorry about the axe thing (although he worries that apologizing may have been beneath him). There’s no reason why Guillermo should be continuing to stink up the house with his annoying feelings.

For the first few days, Nandor spends his time devising increasingly menial chores to keep his familiar busy and-- _most importantly_ \--away from him. This point is key because, lately, whenever Nandor is near his familiar he’s assaulted by disturbing memories. Like the feel of the human’s warm, soft body pressed against his aching arousal. Or the way Guillermo’s frightened breath clouded so prettily in the night air before Nandor launched an axe at his head. Or how his eyes sparkled behind his spectacles when Nandor told him he was special. It’s all _highly_ distracting!

This strategy has the added bonus of reestablishing Guillermo’s role as a servant and not some kind of...illicit...immoral...stomach butterflying... _something else_! The plan is going great and the house has never looked better. The mouse poops in the cellar have all been swept up. The gutters are clear. Nadja and Laszlo’s sex toy collection has finally been hygienically cleaned. But an unforeseen problem occurs to Nandor on about the third night of Guillermo’s new, stringent routine.

\---

Guillermo stands beside the heavy, wooden coffin, ready to assist his master when he rises for the evening like always. Dutiful. Loyal. Devoted.

_Pathetic._

He sways on his feet and his eyelids drop closed for an instant before he jerks back to attention. Ever since the night of the axe throwing contest--no, ever since the feeding, Nandor has been even more difficult and demanding than usual. And maybe Guillermo could deal with it better if he didn’t have echoes of the vampire’s careless words ringing in his ears. _Disgusting...unnatural…_ He’d known that his little crush was doomed from the start. But to hear Nandor refer to him as so decidedly beneath his dignity was a fatal blow to his fragile self-delusion. It’s been years since Guillermo resigned himself to Nandor’s perpetual procrastination in making him a vampire. He’d stayed on because... _why?_ Because he cared for Nandor. Because every once in awhile Nandor would do something to reveal that he cared back. _But now? What’s the point?_

The coffin creaks open and Nandor sits up looking unfairly handsome. His hair should at least be mussed from sleeping all day, but no, it’s smooth and gorgeous as ever and Guillermo feels a spike of anger just looking at his stupid, beautiful master. Nandor stands, wordlessly holding out his hand without even making eye contact. A long moment passes and Guillermo remains stubbornly still, staring at a spot on Nandor’s chest where, he supposes, his dead, unfeeling heart must be.

Finally, Nandor whines with a frown, “Guillermo? What is this? You’re my familiar for years, suddenly I make your wildest fantasy come true and you think you don’t have to help me out of my coffin anymore? Is this the new you?”

Guillermo breathes in and out, his eyes hardening to dark diamond points before he looks up and meets Nandor’s petulant gaze. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to touch my... _disgusting_ human hand,” he bites the words out with something close to a growl and Nandor startles, curling his fingers inward as he withdraws his hand.

“Have you washed since you cleaned the mouse poops, Guillermo?” he curls his lips back in revulsion.

Guillermo’s voice drips with barely contained frustration as he snaps, “Yes, of course!”

Nandor shrugs, laying his hand over the top of his familiar’s head for balance as he steps out of the coffin. 

“There’s no need for that insolent tone. Do you want to get another demerit?” 

Guillermo could scream. 

\---

_What the shit was that all about?_ Not only is his familiar stinking up the house with his human emotional funk, now he’s being disrespectful? 

Nandor stalks down to the cell for a quick snack, tearing into a crying man’s jugular as he ponders the problem with Guillermo. He goes through all that effort, with the music and the smelling-things, to give the guy a nice little bite on the neck and what does he get? Nothing but accusations from his roommates and not a shred of gratitude from his familiar. The little guy isn’t even appreciating all the work he went through coming up with creative chores to remind him how valuable he is as a servant!

He probably wouldn’t care so much if it weren’t for the very confusing way his body responds to Guillermo’s bad mood. He keeps feeling this ache in his belly no matter how much blood he drinks. And his heart squeezes in his chest thinking about the sad little frown on Guillermo’s lips. This symptom is very alarming since his heart isn’t supposed to be doing that. He wants to make his familiar smile at him again like he did when he’d pressed his nose into the flowers he’d got for him. 

Thinking about that night, as the victim’s blood pools on his tongue, there are other things he wants, too. He wants to hear Guillermo making those little passionate, mewls as his fangs tear into his throat. He wants Guillermo’s hands to thread through his hair again. Wants to go back and dare himself to explore his familiar’s body, to see if he was as physically affected by the feeding as Nandor was.

_Fuck! This isn’t helping!_ He drops the dead human onto the floor of the cell with a frustrated growl, stalking off and leaving a trail of sad, frustrated, horny vampire scent behind him.

He finds Guillermo without realizing that was his intent. The familiar is reaching up on his tiptoes to dust the ornaments and photographs arranged on the mantle in the library. Nandor floats into the room as a vapor, hanging suspended in the air and watching as Guillermo sinks back on his heels, leaning his forehead on the smooth, polished wood of the mantle and barely suppressing a yawn as his eyes drift closed. Guillermo’s breathing starts to steady out and he falls asleep while standing. Nandor feels that annoying heart-squeeze thing even in his vapor form! Normally he would not tolerate his familiar falling asleep on the job, but he notes the dark circles beneath Guillermo’s eyes and the look of strain on his face even as he sleeps. Perhaps...perhaps increasing his work load has been the wrong move?

Nandor transforms, coming to stand beside Guillermo and placing one large hand on his sweater-clad shoulder. Guillermo jumps awake at once, the feather duster flying from his hand and clattering to the floor in his surprise. 

“I--I’m sorry, master. I was just resting my eyes,” Guillermo squeaks, hurriedly stooping to pick up the duster.

Nandor stands there regarding his familiar in silence for a moment. The bruise on his throat has started to fade, just as he promised it would. But it is still an obvious marring of light purple and sickly yellow. Nandor’s lips part as he stares down at the marks made by his own fangs. Words drift through his mind. Things he might say. _Guillermo, you seem tired. I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you… You looked so adorable in your sleep, I wanted to bite your face off… Why don’t I bite the other side of your neck to make a pretty matching bruise…_

“Master?”

Nandor clears his throat and gestures to the mess of blood coating his mouth and beard, “Could you help me with this?”

“Of course,” Guillermo mutters, setting aside his hurt and secretly thrilling at the chance to perform one of his favorite familiar duties.

\---

Guillermo holds the damp washcloth aloft in front of Nandor’s face and reaches out to cup his jaw, gently tilting his head back so that he can set to work cleaning away the blood. They’re in the downstairs bathroom. Nandor sits on the toilet with Guillermo standing between his knees, leaning forward with a look of concentration as he gently dabs away the mess.

Nandor sighs with pleasure and murmurs, “That’s very nice, Guillermo. You always get the water just the right temperature. Not too hot, not too cold.”

Guillermo feels his face flush with his master’s praise even as he reminds himself that the words are empty and placating. He’s been surviving on scraps long enough to know to take what he can get.

“Thank you, master,” he replies, smothering another yawn. His eyes are transfixed, watching the towel stroke back and forth over Nandor’s lush, full lips. He almost hates to see the blood coming away as he works, because Nandor’s blood stained mouth is like a snapshot straight out of his deepest fantasies. _Fuck!_ How pitiful is it that he’s still thinking this way after everything his master said the other night?

Nandor is oblivious to his familiar’s internal struggle, but he notes the yawn with a dismayed frown.

“I’ve been…” he chokes on the words but forces them out, “working you a little hard these last few nights, Guillermo. You are tired. Why don’t you take a nice rest after this?”

He smiles up at his familiar, feeling that inexplicable swell of happiness that always accompanies a kindness shown to the soft, little human. _What has happened to him?_ He used to be the stuff of nightmares and now he is getting his kicks being nice to a mortal?

If Nandor’s heart hadn’t stopped beating centuries ago then it would surely stop now at the sight of the grateful smile slowly spreading over Guillermo’s lips. 

“That would be...really nice. Thank you, master,” Guillermo replies, starting in on cleansing Nandor’s beard with the smile still tugging on the corners of his mouth. Nandor can’t keep his eyes from that mouth and the happy feeling is still swirling around in his chest and he wonders if he can maybe make his familiar smile even more…

“Maybe we could...we could watch that movie you’re always harping on about. _The Vampire Interview_ ,” Nandor suggests. He waits for a reaction and is rewarded for his effort when his familiar’s face lights up with an incandescent grin.

“ _Interview with the Vampire_!? Really? You want to watch it...together?” Guillermo sounds both hopeful and doubtful and it tugs at Nandor’s dead heart.

“Yes, as I said,” Nandor answers. And, because he needs to assert some control over this confusing situation, he adds, “I will watch the _Interview with the Vampire with_ you. I need to supervise and make sure that you are resting properly so that you can get back to your duties tomorrow…”

\---

About a year earlier all the vampires in the house went through a Home Shopping Network phase. The front stoop was piled daily with boxes of all shapes and sizes containing everything from porcelain dolls for Nadja to a Bedazzler for Nandor and Shake Weights for Laszlo (who assumed they were intended for erotic use). Even Colin Robinson got in on the craze, ordering those products he estimated would be most likely to result in class action litigation. Eventually Guillermo had to put his foot down, sitting everyone down in the library and painstakingly explaining the importance of good credit, financial literacy and the fact that the vampires actually had bills to pay. Everyone pouted for a few days but no one so much as Nandor.

Because Nandor had recently discovered the holy grail, so to speak, of _As Seen On TV_ products: the Snuggie. And he had a powerful need. But no amount of whining, cajoling or lashing out would convince Guillermo to relinquish his hold on the vampire’s credit card.

“It’s for your own good, master! Please!” Guillermo finally begged after Nandor’s thousandth plaintive glare.

“But it’s a blanket...for snuggling, Guillermo! I need it!” Nandor whined, stomping his foot.

Guillermo shook his head, “That’s not really...never mind. Who are you planning on snuggling with, anyway?”

Nandor paused in his tantrum, darting his eyes around and looking everywhere but at his familiar. If he could have, he would have been blushing.

“No one you know!” Nandor insisted, his voice a little too loud. “A vampire. A really cool...really hot vampire that I know…”

He was the bane of Guillermo’s existence for weeks, holding onto the idea of the Snuggie with uncharacteristic tenacity. One night, while Guillermo was doing some shopping for himself, he stumbled across a display of the damn things in CVS. He couldn’t help but smile and roll his eyes as he stuffed it into his cart.

Nandor was happy with the gift for a few minutes until he got it out of the box and Guillermo instructed him on how to put it on. 

“But...there’s no room for the other person! How am I supposed to snuggle in this...chastity bag?!” 

Guillermo hasn’t seen the Snuggie since.

\---

“I made popped corn!” Nandor announces in a sing-song as he ducks into the closet-room beneath the stairs. He holds out a bowl full of blackened, burned kernels with a proud smile, “Colin Robinson helped me.”

“I bet he did,” Guillermo mutters under his breath before forcing a bright, pleased smile onto his face, “Wow, master! Thank you!”

Guillermo takes the bowl and sets it on the rickety stool that serves as his nightstand. He’s sitting a little rigidly on the bed with his laptop propped on his knees. He scoots in toward the wall and pats the threadbare blanket beside him, “D-do you want to sit? I’m sorry there’s not more space, we could go in the fancy room--”

“No,” Nandor interrupts with a wave of his hand. “This is...fine. More restful for you.”

And less of a chance that one of the other roommates will interrupt and they’ll end up in another axe throwing situation.

Nandor sits down gingerly on the bed, slotting his long legs beside Guillermo’s shorter ones and awkwardly fidgeting with a fuzzy bundle in his lap.

“What’s that, master?” Guillermo asks, tapping the keys on his laptop as he brings up the movie. 

“Oh, this?” Nandor attempts nonchalance as he shakes out the fabric. “It is my Snuggie. I thought that...maybe it might help with your sleepiness problem. Get you nice and comfy cozy for the movie.”

He tosses the blanket-garment at Guillermo and stares down at his hands, fiddling with his rings as he listens to his familiar’s heart skip a beat. Nandor’s lips twitch. How he enjoys that fluttery little sound. 

Guillermo gently spreads the Snuggie over himself, ignoring the ridiculous sleeves and using it as a regular blanket. He’s feeling a lot of things right now. Happiness that this impossibly cute scenario is actually playing out, like a manifestation of his most tame Nandor-related dreams. Wariness, because Nandor has been extra shitty lately and he never knows when one of his magnanimous moods will swing in the other direction. And, mostly, confusion. 

He shakes his head and tries to go with the flow, “Thanks, master. Very cozy. You ready to start the movie?”

The vampire nods and Guillermo presses play, feeling that mix of anticipation and fear that comes with sharing a favorite movie with someone who’s never seen it. He squirms a bit, jostling the laptop as he gets comfortable under the blanket. Nandor remains statue-like beside him, his lips pulled back in an uncomfortable smile as he keeps his eyes fixed on the screen and tries to ignore his delicious familiar and the way his soft, warm body is pressed against his side in the tiny bed.

_“So you want me to tell you the story of my life?”_ Guillermo mouths the words as Brad Pitt speaks, falling into the cinematic magic and letting go of his nerves as the movie starts playing. Even Nandor gets into it, whooping when Louis frightens Daniel with his vampiric speed.

“That’s always a fun trick to play on mortals, Guillermo! They totally freak out!” Nandor laughs.

As the film goes on Guillermo notices that Nandor is starting to fidget. He’s lightly stroking the fleece fabric of the Snuggie with a look of poorly concealed longing. Guillermo watches from the corner of his eye and wonders to himself. _Hadn’t he originally though it was meant for two people? Did he want…?_

Guillermo clears his throat and goes for it. _What the hell._ This has been a week of revelations already.

“Are you cold, master? There’s room under the Snuggie,” Guillermo casually suggests, lifting the end toward Nandor invitingly. 

Nandor darts a look at the closed curtain that acts as Guillermo’s door, as if he’s worried Laszlo or Nadja is about to jump out from behind it and cry, “Gotcha!”

“It is a little nippy in here…” Nandor trails off, hesitating for another beat before taking the edge of the blanket and pulling it over him. It’s more than large enough to fit over both of them comfortably.

Nandor smiles with glee and slips his arm through the draping sleeve on his side, “Guillermo! Put your arm in the sleeve.”

Guillermo smiles in bemusement and does as he’s told, pushing the fabric up to free his hand and looking over at Nandor expectantly.

“Look at us, Guillermo!” Nandor grins. “We look like one of those poor wretches in the human freak show.”

Guillermo’s smile falters and he knits his brows in confusion for a second, “You mean...conjoined twins?”

“Yes!” Nandor laughs. “We are like the rejoined twins.”

Guillermo giggles. He’s feeling almost lightheaded with how... _nice_ this is. He turns back to the screen, shifting down the mattress a bit and ever so slightly leaning into his master’s solid bulk. Nandor looks down at the top of Guillermo’s head, admiring the curly waves of hair pressed against his shoulder. He decides to allow it. For the sake of Guillermo’s rest, of course.

Now that the Snuggie covers them and Guillermo’s attention is fixed on the movie, Nandor lets himself relax. He loosens the set of his shoulders and his legs splay out more naturally beneath the folds of fleece. He lets his left hand, the one thankfully concealed by the blanket, fall to his side, the back of his hand brushing Guillermo’s. The human’s hand twitches in response and he feels his familiar’s fingers reach out experimentally, grazing over Nandor’s knuckles. 

Nandor releases a soft, startled breath and he turns his wrist, capturing the soft little hand in his own and entwining their fingers in the safe, forgiving darkness beneath the blanket. Both men keep their eyes glued to the laptop without truly seeing anything playing on the screen. Nandor thinks this will be okay as long as neither of them acknowledges what’s happening. Guillermo’s heart is in his throat. He’s elated and also petrified to do anything to break the spell of the moment. He feels like a teenager holding hands for the first time in a darkened movie theater.

Nandor’s palm is cool against his warm skin and his hand is absolutely giant, completely engulfing Guillermo’s smaller one. It’s Nandor who finally breaks the fragile tension, squeezing Guillermo’s hand so, _so_ carefully. He’s mindful, as he always is when he touches his human, of how easy it would be to slip and break something, accidentally turning Guillermo’s perfect little hand into a fistful of pulp and bones. Guillermo squeezes back and slides their palms together in a soft caress. Nandor can’t see his face from this angle, but he thinks he sees the tell-tale dimple in Guillermo’s cheek that means he’s smiling. Again that strange, overwhelming joy in his chest. He wants to make Guillermo happy like this always. _But...how?_

Guillermo nuzzles his face into Nandor’s shoulder and the vampire lets out an involuntary purr that rumbles through his chest. Guillermo squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his face into the fabric of Nandor’s sleeve and giving up all pretense of watching the movie. He breathes in his master’s scent, cold and earthy with hints of argan oil and lavender. His chest hitches with each breath as he works up the nerve to do what he wants to do. Nandor’s words from the garden float back to him. He’d curled his lip at Guillermo. He’d practically spit at the very idea of touching him. But here he is in bed with him, with their fingers twined together like young lovers, with Guillermo clinging to his side for dear life and he’s not shrinking away or scolding him. He’s responding…

Guillermo opens his eyes and peeks up at his master. Nandor stares down at him with an unreadable expression in his bottomless dark eyes. If he doesn’t at least try this now then he never will. Guillermo parts his lips, flicking his gaze down to Nandor’s mouth and then back up to his eyes. He sits up, bringing their faces so close he can feel Nandor’s cool breath on his lips. Nandor hasn’t moved, his face is still unreadable. Guillermo’s brows draw together in a silent, pleading question and then he leans in, dragging out the movement so that Nandor will have every opportunity to pull away if that’s what he wants. But he doesn’t.

Their lips touch in the briefest, softest kiss. Guillermo pulls back almost at once, his breath stuttering in his throat and his lips tingling. He looks up at Nandor with frantic, desperate hope.

“Is this…?” he starts to ask but Nandor presses his fingers to his lips to stop the words before they can ruin everything.

“Don’t. Speak,” he commands.

Guillermo nods, his eyes going wide and plaintive as Nandor’s fingers fall away. For a moment they are immobile. Neither one of them is capable of bridging the gap between them nor of pulling away. Nandor’s breath may be nothing more than muscle memory, but it is ragged and torn from his throat as he contemplates the damage done to his great, wise plan by the merest touch of a hand and a kiss from this dear, precious human.

Then Nandor falls forward, knocking the laptop off of Guillermo’s legs and covering his familiar’s body with his own as he latches onto his mouth. He sucks Guillermo’s lower lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the plump flesh and nibbling carefully. Guillermo moans and Nandor reaches up and wraps his hand around the human’s throat, squeezing softly in warning. Guillermo mutters under his breath, _sorrysorrysorry._

Nandor’s hand moves from Guillermo’s neck and instead cups his cheek. He runs his thumb over the cheekbone before burying his hand into the soft curls at the back of his neck as he plunges his tongue into Guillermo’s mouth. He plunders, conquers and pillages his human. And why not? Why should Nandor the Relentless, conqueror of thousands, who once boasted a harem of 37 wives and hundreds of concubines, be afraid of claiming one, silly human for his own pleasure? Why should he worry what others will think when he could be enjoying the sweet, hot feeling of his familiar’s mouth every night? Why deny himself? Why worry about Guillermo’s constant, complicated and exhausting human emotions? He belongs to Nandor not the other way around.

Nandor is riding high on these realizations and he lets himself give in, letting go of his control more than he’s ever allowed himself to in Guillermo’s presence. He presses his body down more firmly against Guillermo’s and he hisses in pleasure when he discovers his familiar’s rigid erection pressing into his thigh. Yes. Yes. He can have this if he wants it. He can have this and he can have Guillermo as his faithful, obedient slave. He can--

Guillermo whines with need as Nandor rolls his thigh against his aching arousal. This is everything he’s ever wanted from the vampire and more than he’d ever dreamed of receiving. He wraps his hands around his master’s shoulders, tugging on his luscious mane of hair and thrusting upwards to increase the friction on his crotch. Guillermo’s single, disappointing high school handjob is the extent of his sexual experience and he’s absolutely overwhelmed. Nandor is everything...he’s never felt so--

“ _I...ngggh...fucking love you, Nandor_ ,” Guillermo cries as he comes in his pants, falling back into his single, sad pillow with a broken whimper. 

Nandor hovers over his spent familiar, staring down at him with a shell-shocked expression in his eyes. It takes a moment for Guillermo to register the words that fell from his lips only seconds ago and then he’s sputtering, eyes wide and trying to take it back.

“I didn’t--I mean, I don’t...I…” he can’t say it. He can’t lie about this, not now that the words are out there. He looks up at Nandor and his heart sinks as he watches his master’s face smooth over into an impenetrable mask. “Please don’t, master.”

_Don’t retreat from this. Don’t go back to pretending. Don’t reject me now that you’ve cracked open my rib cage to reveal the beating-heart truth of my feelings. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t._

Nandor shakes his head minutely and brings his hand up to smooth down an errant lock of Guillermo’s hair. It feels like a block of ice has settled in the vampire’s stomach. He’d thought he could have this but Guillermo had gone and ruined it. He’s silent for a moment, tracing the lines of Guillermo’s face with his eyes as if he’s burning this moment into his memory. A single tear leaks from the corner of his familiar’s eye and Nandor wipes it away before it can fall into his hairline. He sighs.

“Guillermo…” he leans back a bit, looking sad but resolute, “I...I shouldn’t have let this happen. And you! You disobeyed me. I asked you not to speak. Why couldn’t you obey me, Guillermo?”

The question comes out choked and angry and Guillermo can only shake his head and mutter, “I’m sorry, master…”

Nandor shakes himself, taking control of these unwieldy emotions and answering with an approximation of calm, “It’s alright, Guillermo. I...I won’t let you remember this.”

He brings his hand up between them and holds it before Guillermo’s face. The human blanches, struggling pointlessly to get out from under Nandor’s solid weight. But Nandor presses down, pinning him against the mattress as Guillermo starts to cry.

“No, master, please!” he screws his eyes shut, turning his face away in an attempt to block Nandor’s hypnotic power. “Please don’t do this to me, Nandor. Please let me...let me keep this. We can never talk about it again. I’ll go back to how it was before. I’ll be your familiar and I’ll never ever leave you, please. Just...don’t…”

Guillermo’s voice breaks and he sobs, burying his face into Nandor’s chest and clutching his hands in the heavy fabric of his vest. Nandor has never felt worse. The lingering taste of Guillermo’s kiss on his lips turns to ash. How has he managed to ruin everything again!? He’d nearly succeeded building up the strict walls between them, knocking Guillermo back down to his rightful place. But then he’d let his stupid addiction to making the human happy cloud his judgement and now he’s made Guillermo more miserable than ever!

“It will be better if you don’t remember, Guillermo,” Nandor whispers, bringing his hands up to cradle the back of his familiar’s head. “Less painful.”

“ _Why?_ ” the word is muffled. Guillermo speaks into his chest, too afraid to pull away and risk being hypnotized.

Nandor strokes his fingers through the dark curls and answers, “Because this cannot be...between us. It’s--”

“Disgusting? Unnatural?” Guillermo prompts angrily.

Nandor sighs, “You’re not...disgusting to me, Guillermo. I should not have used that word.”

“ _Then what!?_ ” Guillermo asks and he pulls back to glare into Nandor’s eyes, forgetting the danger in his fury.

“It...simply cannot be…” he brings his hand up between them once more and Guillermo stays frozen in place, tears spilling down his cheeks and his lips quivering.

“Don’t,” he pleads one more time and Nandor’s heart does the squeezy thing again. _Are human emotions contagious?_

His hand drops and Nandor turns away, baring his fangs in a furious hiss. He stands up abruptly, awkwardly disentangling himself from the Snuggie and throwing it down onto the bed. He straightens his clothing, determinedly looking away from his familiar as he speaks, “You really should turn that silly movie off and go to sleep, Guillermo. There’s still many chores left for you to complete tomorrow…”

With that Nandor flees the cramped room under the stairs, almost running down the hallway to his crypt as things that are definitely not tears sting at his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nandor and Guillermo deal with the fallout of last night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in a frenzy and now I'm posting it because I crave immediate satisfaction and have no self control. Bon Appetit!!

_ Shit! Fuck! Damn! Fiasco! _

Nandor retires straight to his coffin after storming out of his familiar’s room. He’s still fully dressed and the little hair pins in his bun stab the back of his head as he lies down. 

_ Fucking guy! _

Who gave him permission to have those kinds of feelings, anyway? Nandor’s almost certain he included something about not falling in love in Guillermo’s employment contract. He’ll have to check on that tomorrow evening. He growls in angry frustration as he realizes the contract is locked in one Colin Robinson’s basement filing cabinets. Maybe he doesn’t need to worry about checking. He’s positive that he mentioned it to Guillermo before he became his familiar. No falling in love with me. End of discussion!

How dare that little guy ruin his perfect plan? What does he think, just because he has smooth, tan skin, a disarming smile and perfect wavy hair he can just go around forcing Nandor to be horny for him all the time? It’s unacceptable!

Nandor turns onto his side in a huff. He has half a mind to go back there and mind wipe him after all. But the vision of Guillermo’s tear streaked face as he begged Nandor not to hypnotize him floats before his eyes in the darkness and he feels that stabby, annoying pain in his heart area again. 

And now he’s having more confusing heart palpitations again.  _ Great! _

\---

The movie is still playing on Guillermo’s discarded laptop. Claudia shrieks after learning that she can never grow or change as a vampire. It’s his favorite movie. He’s watched it hundreds of times. And Guillermo is only just now contemplating the real world evidence of that phenomenon. Nandor may have centuries of life experience but emotionally he is still the same repressed, spoiled, arrogant 13th century warlord he was when he was turned, just with a few new pop culture references under his belt. Can he really never learn or change? And if that’s true then what the fuck is Guillermo doing here?

He’s frozen in place where Nandor discarded him like so much refuse. His eyes are fixed on the curtain in fear or hope--he’s not certain--that Nandor might come blazing back into his little room, filling it up with his massive presence for better or worse. Salty tear tracks stain his cheeks and he’s still half wrapped up in the dumb snuggie. His face crumples and a silent sob escapes his throat. He’d been so stupidly happy there for a moment. Nandor--his dream boy, his vampire, his  _ Nandor _ \--kissed him and held him like Guillermo had always dreamed. But the memory tastes bitter in his mouth now as he remembers the cold, blank mask of his face after Guillermo mistakenly confessed his love. 

He fists his hands into the soft material of Nandor’s snuggie, burying his face in the fabric as his tears start anew. He begged for this, didn’t he? How pathetic is it that he pleaded with Nandor to let him hold onto the memory of yet another rejection? He falls asleep like that, crying silently and clinging to the only physical evidence of his master’s fleeting, mercurial affection. 

\---

When he opens his coffin the next evening Nandor finds Guillermo waiting to attend him like always. The vampire hides his surprise and holds out his hand for assistance with all of his typical haughty self-importance. He spent all day plagued by nightmares of his familiar running away into the sunlight. Packing up his computing book, his cute little sweaters and his pizza rolls and fleeing from Nandor like he was some kind of...monster.

_ Ridiculous, of course. _

Guillermo won’t leave him. He’d said so last night. He’d promised in exchange for his pathetic memories. But then Nandor notices the human’s hands are shaking as he adjusts his cravat and Guillermo won’t meet his eyes. There is also a strange new smell coming off of him that he usually only encounters around victims.

_ Fear. _

“Guillermo…” Nandor wrinkles his nose “Have you been cleaning the cell? You should really shower afterwards. It’s not hygienic to be dressing me after being around all those human juices.”

His familiar finally looks up at him, eyes narrowed in confusion as he tries to parse his master’s thought process.

“No…” he finally answers and his voice is like a ghost, thin and ephemeral. “I haven’t been cleaning the cell master.”

He self-consciously leans down to sniff his own armpit and Nandor grimaces in disgust. 

“Well, then why--” he stops himself, his deep brown eyes going round as he finally makes the connection. Guillermo is afraid of... _ him _ ? It is like his nightmares are coming to life!

“Guillermo! Snap out of it now! This is very upsetting and...unprofessional. Why are you afraid?”

Guillermo flinches as if struck by Nandor’s words. He didn’t realize how transparent he was being. His first instinct is to deny it but a flare of anger takes hold of him and he’s speaking before his ingrained habit of suppressing his true feelings can kick in.

“Why am I afraid!? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you almost erased my memories last night? And you could do it any time you want and I’d be powerless to stop you?”

Nandor’s brows knit together and he scoffs, “But that’s always--”

He stops himself, guiltily averting his eyes, but it’s too late. Something changes in Guillermo’s face. The anger bleeds away and his skin goes pale. He almost looks like a vampire or… or one of his victims. The thought sends a shiver down Nandor’s spine.

“Master…” Guillermo’s voice is calm and cool but Nandor has a feeling that what comes next will determine something very important. 

“Have you--” He swallows against the lump in his throat. “--Have you hypnotized me before?”

Nandor grimaces, baring his sharp fangs in an uncomfortable smile and looking like the vampiric embodiment of a dog shaming video.

\---

_ There’s the time he dropped Guillermo while he was helping him dust around the spider houses… _

_...the time Guillermo saw Nandor fall down at the roller rink and the human children all laughed at him… _

_...when he shamed himself while Guillermo helped him adjust his orgy suit… _

_ And countless other small, trivial moments that now seem to add up to quite a lot. _

_ And, of course, there’s the other night when Nandor admitted that Guillermo is special to him. _

\---

“...Once or twice.”

Nandor watches his familiar’s face fall and his eyes start leaking. Guillermo angrily scrubs the tears away and shakes his head, throwing off the hurt as he’s learned to do all his life. From elementary school bullies to the love of his life, Guillermo has been rolling with the emotional punches for as long as he can remember. This is no different. So what if the last five years are a lie? So what if he can't trust his own memory? Guillermo is resilient. Guillermo is rubber. Guillermo kills ‘em with kindness and lives to fight another day. Or...

“ _ Fuck you, Nandor _ ,” he reaches up to finish tying the cravat, angrily cinching it around the vampire’s neck with a painful tug.

“Ouch! Watch it with that!” Nandor complains, batting Guillermo’s little hands away. Guillermo crosses his arms over his chest and glares back at him with fierce, thunderstorm eyes. Nandor’s never seen his familiar like this.  _ So forceful… _ he shakes his head violently, banishing the stupid horny thoughts attempting to take over.

“Alright! So I hypnotized you a few times. So what? Kind of comes with the job there, Guillermo. Did you even read your contract?” 

“You mean the one you scribbled on the back of a Panera menu?” Guillermo rolls his eyes. “How did it go? ‘I.O.U. one unholy transition. Signed, Nandor the Relentless’?”

Nandor scrunches his face up and he shifts his eyes as he tries to remember.  _ There must have been more to it… _

“I don’t think…” he falters, losing steam for a second before riling himself back up through sheer force of will. He is Nandor the RELENTLESS! “That’s neither here nor anywhere, Guillermo! The point is...eh...the point is you should have expected the occasional hypnotic trance when you took the job! It is common sense!”

“You’re right, master,” Guillermo says in the tone he uses when he doesn’t mean the thing that he is saying. “Silly me, expecting that you’d treat me any differently than one of your victims.”

Nandor feels like he’s rapidly losing the thread of this conversation. Or, more realistically, that the thread ran out from between his fingers long ago and he’s grasping at the empty air. Guillermo thinks he treats him like a victim? After all the troubles he went through to get the smelly red flowers and the music for his dirty biting fantasy? After he saved him from Nadja’s horrendous aim? After all of their chess games and strolls through the moonlit hunting grounds and the countless hours Nandor has spent listening for the soft thump of Guillermo’s human heart? This is what he thinks?

Nandor curls his lip and hurls his next words to Guillermo’s feet with disdain, “Didn’t you say you were jealous of my victims, Guillermo? Well, now you do not have to be. You are one. Perhaps I should finish the job.”

Guillermo barks out a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “Oh, please! You’re not going to kill me anymore than you’re going to turn me.”

Guillermo turns away, the job of dressing his master left unfinished and he starts to leave. Nandor looks at his familiar’s back and he sees him running away, abandoning him just like in his dream. 

“No!” he roars, lifting off the ground several inches as he flies at Guillermo, tackling the human into the wall of his crypt and knocking a 700-year-old sword to the floor. He presses his hands into Guillermo’s shoulders, pinning him in place and marveling at the soft give of his flesh layered over strong muscles. “You are my familiar and I have not given you permission to leave!”

Guillermo’s eyes harden and he parts his lips to deliver what Nandor is certain will be a devastating blow. He’s going to leave him. He’s going to quit. All because Nandor wasn’t aloof enough! He can’t let him do this! If Nandor’s heart could beat he’s sure it would be bursting from his chest this very second. He squeezes Guillermo’s shoulders too hard, painfully grinding the bones beneath his palms as he lunges, burying his face into the pristine, smooth expanse of his familiar’s neck and biting down with all the force in his body. Guillermo screams and flails against him, but it’s pointless. Nandor is too strong and he’s hell bent on giving his human a bruise to match the one on the other side of his neck.

Guillermo’s blood was made for Nandor. It floods his mouth, coating his tongue like a thick, sweet nectar. He swallows it with a savage groan and presses harder against Guillermo, digging his growing erection into the softness of his belly. 

Guillermo is lost in a confusing tangle of rage, sadness, fear and arousal. He can’t fucking believe that Nandor is doing this, basically proving that Guillermo is nothing more than another human victim. And it really, really shouldn’t turn him on this much. His words ring in Guillermo’s ears as the life pulses out of him.  _ Perhaps I should finish the job _ . Guillermo doesn’t believe for a second that his master is planning to kill but just in case…

He fists his hands in the vampire’s shiny, soft hair--hair he’s lovingly brushed and arranged every night for the last five years--and he yanks it back with all of his might. 

“Ouch! Fucking--” Nandor rears back, blood pouring down his chin and his eyes blown with hunger and lust. He captures Guillermo with those eyes and the familiar is drawn in like a moth to the flame.  _ Why is he always chasing the thing that will hurt him? _

Before he can second guess himself, and before Nandor can do something stupid like turn into a vapor, Guillermo grabs the vampire’s collar, tugs him down to his level and slams his mouth against his in a brutal, angry kiss. Fuck you for throwing an axe at my head.  _ Fuck you for making me feel inadequate. Fuck you for kissing me and then trying to erase it from my memory. And really, truly, deeply, fuck you for making me love you anyway. _

Guillermo’s hands paw at Nandor’s bearded jaw, holding in place as their lips slide together, tongues seeking and massaging. The salty copper taste of Guillermo’s own blood fills his mouth as Nandor plunders inside. The vampire moans, his hands straying down over Guillermo’s chest, his stomach, reaching around to settle over the round curve of his backside. Guillermo whimpers into Nandor’s lips as the vampire squeezes his fingers into his buttocks and simultaneously rolls his pelvis. There’s a sound in the distance trying to attract his attention. As if Guillermo would let go of this moment for anything in the world.

In the next instant, the door to the crypt flings open and Laszlo ducks inside, slamming it shut again just in time to keep out his shrieking, furious wife. Nandor breaks away from Guillermo, jumping back and holding his hands aloft with an obvious, guilty expression. 

Laszlo takes one look at Nandor’s blood stained mouth and Guillermo’s utterly ravished appearance and snorts in amusement.

“I fucking knew it!”


End file.
